Del Lago Hunting
by Blood.Drop.Lolita
Summary: Apparently, it wasn't dead. Leon and Luis are assigned to dispose of the creature, and Luis seems to know more than he lets on...


**(A/N): **I had to write a short story for my creative writing class, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone and make it fanfiction material. I had to keep it a certain length, hence why it's so short.

Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil or any of its characters.

**Del Lago Hunting**

Del Lago, meaning "from the lake, goes against all laws of nature. It is a giant amphibian that haunts a lake in a rural section of Spain, Europe. It is the size of a large oil tanker and, unlike the Chubrecabra, has a taste for human flesh, rather than livestock. People unknowing of Del Lago's presence are instantly dragged under the water, be they foolish enough to actually boat across the massive lake in which it resides.

Two people have been assigned to the job of killing and disposing of the abomination; An American government agent by the name of Leon Kennedy, and a suave Spanish researcher named Luis Sera. The easy part- finding the beast; the hard part- finding it without being found **first**.

It was cold for autumn. You would think a place like Spain would be a bit more… sunny. The American, Leon, had complained several times about the dropping temperature, but the Spaniard, Luis, just ignored the man. He was more focused on his research and the current situation at hand. The American thought this job was a cakewalk, since he had single-handedly retrieved the president's daughter from the clutches of a cult several years ago. Luck would have it, the American was back on familiar grounds.

"For a twenty six year old man, you sure do complain a lot." Luis sighed and observed the water he was testing in a small beaker.

"That's always you, disguising insults through witty banter." Leon chuckled and fiddled with his Striker (a model of shotgun that held a drum of ammunition, rather than a few shells at a time).

"Oh, sorry. It wasn't meant to be sugar-coated… I thought this thing had died off with the contamination of the Plagas." Luis mumbled the last bit to himself.

Las Plagas, or "parasites", had contaminated everything in Spain, just a few years prior. A religious cult got it in their minds that if they mined up the fossilized Plagas then they would bring about world unity. The spores contained within the dust from the mineral rocks were carried by the wind, infecting every person and creature within an undeterminable radius. Del Lago was formed when the spores reached the lake. The creature was contaminated by the spore-infected water and, with available food source, a large environment, and constant exposure to the spores, the simple newt that was infected soon grew to grotesque proportions. In fear, the villagers provide the mutant with daily sacrifices, in order to keep it appeased.

"This wasn't a problem until they started kidnapping tourists. And since one of the tourists was American, the United States government just _had_ to get involved."

"But think of how many lives have been lost to feed this thing. They feed it daily, and there's 365 days in a year-"

"I can do math, cowboy." Luis smirked, "I'm just stating a point."

Leon said nothing and resumed his pacing. They had been here all morning, trying to develop a strategy that ended with them coming out alive and Del Lago dead; it was easier said than done. The American glanced over to Luis, who was packing up the water sample and various tools he had used that morning. When he said nothing, Leon spoke up,

"So what's the score?"

Luis kept his back to Leon and spoke with disinterest,

"Nothing's changed."

"You spent an hour looking at bubbles and you expect me to believe that?" Leon scoffed.

"It's not a big deal. Nothing's changed, so there's nothing to report."

"Quite a bit of paperwork you got there if nothing's changed." Leon said dryly. Was Luis keeping information from him?

"My estimate is that the best course of action is to try and get it while it's sleeping." Luis finally turned to look at Leon.

"It sleeps?" The American blurted.

"All fish sleep, amigo."

"I thought it was a frog."

"No, technically it's a fish; it has gills." Luis clicked his tongue, "and technically it would have been a _newt_, not a frog."

"Whatever." Something did not settle with Leon; supposedly, Luis had never been able to observe the creature up-close, so how would he know such intricate details about it? He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, along with the other speculation.

"You gonna use that as a leaning stick, or are you going to put it to some use?" Luis motioned to Leon's Striker, then said, "I told you the best time to go after it is when it's sleeping. Well, it's sleeping."

Leon groaned inwardly; he had been dreading this part. The two men made their way over to a two-person motor boat and settled in.

"Where's your monitoring equipment?" Leon asked.

"At the lab. I didn't deem it necessary to bring it with me." Luis shrugged.

"So what? I'm basically doing this by myself?!" Leon growled. Luis held his hands up defensively.

"Whoa, easy there, cowboy. Excuse me for not bringing a bunch of unneeded equipment like you Americans do!"

Leon said nothing. There had been a rift growing in their friendship ever since they were assigned onto this task, and it was obvious that this would be the final piece to the puzzle. Luis nodded, taking Leon's silence as a surrender.

Luis was in charge of guiding the boat to the leftmost corner of the lake, where Del Lago enjoyed napping; it was the only area of the lake that did not receive sunlight. Leon clutched his Striker, his index finger hovering shakily over the trigger. It was not visible, but the American was nervous. He had faced off Del Lago a few years ago when he was on the search and rescue mission. The beast had been much smaller than it was now, and it had taken everything he had to get out of the situation alive. The American thought he had successful killed it. But, life had different plans for him. A few years after the incident, Leon would receive a file and be assigned to slay the creature again; the moment he received the assignment had been the only time his coworkers had seen any trace of emotion sketched across his face.

His fears had been enforced when there were murmurs about the office he would end up like Jack Krauser, a friend of his. The man had been sent to Spain around the same few years ago as Leon. Jack was basically given a suicide mission, and it ended prematurely with his death. A few months later, it was reported they had found Krauser's knife along the shore of the lake; most assumed he had been slaughtered and then Del Lago partook of the foreign delicacy.

Leon had been so absorbed in his thoughts, he had not heard Luis calling to him. A small, dense object made contact with the American's skull- a rock.

"Oi! Are you going to daydream all day, or are you going to put your shotgun to some use?" Luis looked panicked. He did not wait for Leon to respond, "Good! Because _IT'S_ not waiting any longer!"

Leon glanced behind him just in time; apparently this was not Del Lago's napping hours.

"I thought you said it was sleeping!" Leon shouted.

"Apparently I thought wrong! Shoot it, cop!" Luis maneuvered the boat and began to drive them away from Del Lago, causing Leon to nearly lose his footing and be thrown overboard. Leon shot Luis a look of scrutiny; they had the temporary advantage of maneuverability and surprise, but that advantage would only last for so many minutes…

Leon steadied himself and took aim. He peered over the barrel, then lowered it slightly, "We need to get closer! This thing is no good far away!"

Luis gave him an exasperated look, "Of course it's not!"

The Spaniard looked around, and spotted an old harpoon abandoned under a white tarp. He kicked it towards Leon.

"Use that then."

Leon hastily grabbed up the harpoon and felt a sense of nostalgia, for he had been in this same predicament with the same weapon before. He knew where the core was, he just needed the monster to open its mouth…

"Sometime today, please!"

"I've only got one--"

Leon's sentence was abruptly cut off as Del Lago submerged itself violently back into the water, nearly tipping their small boat. The two men took several seconds to steady themselves- several seconds that they did not have. It was fully awake now, and it was enraged at how the chugging clink of the boat had been its wake-up call.

Leon gripped the side of the boat and discarded his Striker, the gun sliding back and forth as the boat rocked; its rhythm increased and became more severe as the creature made its rounds again. The American gripped the railing tighter and raised his arm, along with the rusted harpoon, as the monster's pale, olive coloured back became visible.

He could not afford to take the shot; the beast had yet to expose its main core, but Leon was beginning to doubt he would be alive long enough for the core to be exposed. He couldn't wait any longer; the shot had to be taken. He began to plunge his arm forward just as the beast shifted its weight to the right, sending a massive wave of the dirty pond water hurdling towards the skiff.

Leon grunted at the sudden blast of icy water and he felt the boat began to shift with the motion of the wave; the boat was going to capsize. Luis gave a startled gasp as the water his him, as well, and, had he not been in a seating position, would have been thrown overboard. Leon tried to get a grip on the side of the boat, but his fingers slipped and he lost his footing, being flung over the starboard side as though he were weightless; all this happening within the course of just a few seconds.

He could feel nothing. The sting of water flooded his nostrils and began to work its way into his lungs; the taste of sulfur and dirty water brought him to his senses. Leon resisted the urge to flail when he saw Del Lago floating lazily, just feet from where he, himself, floated. He found the beast's weakness; it had no eyes, nor nostrils. It could smell nor see anything.

_Of course! _Leon thought to himself. The beast relied to the vibrations in the water for it to find its next meal, which is why boating had made them such easy targets. Leon quickly kicked his way to the surface, knowing the beast would be drawn to the vibrations.

"It's blind!" Leon choked as his head broke through the water and gripped the side of the boat. Lucky for him, it had not been capsized.

"…did you kill it?" Luis asked hesitantly. Leon's face fell and turned over into a scowl.

"That's it?! That's all you have to--" His scowl turned to one of a blank expression. A sick gurgle formed in the back of his throat as he struggled to pull himself over the side. The sight that Luis beheld appalled him, yet he made no effort to help the man. Leon's lower half had been completely ripped from his body, as a large cloud of blood was forming in the water around the skiff. Leon vomited up blood mixed with black bile and maneuvered himself into the skiff, finally.

His entrails were spilled out, and his intestines were caught on the jagged edges of the boat, the ends of them still drifting in the water like a cast fishing line. Leon was making a pathetic attempt at scooping up what of the organs he could touch and push them back up into his body. A sudden jerk of the boat caused Luis to stir.

"Seems we have a taker, eh, amigo?"

Leon made no coherent noises, only anguished cries, as he began to be pulled back over the edge of the boat by his own entrails. Del Lago was the fish, and Leon's organs were the bait. Leon's chest resisted against the railing on the edge of the boat and Luis sundered over to him, his face calm and he shook his head.

"You Americans… you're so slow to react. If you had just taken the shot." Luis gave him a coo of fake sympathy and, placing his palm against the American's face, shoved him back overboard, allowing Del Lago to drag him to the depths so it may feast, then resume its sleep until its next meal.

Luis started up the motor again and began to make his way back to shore, lighting up a cigarette as he did. He took a long drag off of it and exhaled slowly, allowing the nicotine to do its magic of soothing his tense muscles.

"That should tide you over until I file the missing person's report. The American government should send over another agent, but hopefully not as whiny as the last one…" He spoke to no one, but it was obvious who the message was intended for.


End file.
